Silent Struggle
by Kyong Kybis
Summary: "The locket affects me worse than it affects you and Hermione, it made me think stuff - stuff that I was thinking anyway, but it made everything worse." The times in which Ron wore the locket were the hardest ones of his life, although none could see it, except the Horcrux itself. Set during DH. One-Shot


**A/N**: This story popped in my mind as I was thinking about writing a Ron-centered story (I really hate it how some people view him as a stupid and really insensitive and immature person, he has grown a lot, especially in the last book!) and conventionally read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows at the same time which in the end resulted into this fic.

I hope you will enjoy reading this piece of story and maybe at the end leave a review ;)

**Summary:** "The locket affects me worse than it affects you and Hermione, it made me think stuff - stuff that I was thinking anyway, but it made everything worse." The times in which Ron wore the locket were the hardest ones of his life, although none could see it, except the Horcrux itself. Set during DH. One-Shot

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately I don't and will never own Harry Potter.

**Silent Struggle**

Ron closed his eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling every bit of air he could get as though he had just held his breath for a long time. Then he opened his eyes again, glad to see none of the images he had been forced to see for an unknown period of time.

He looked warily at his chest where he knew the locket was, the cold metal was sending him a shiver down his spine. Although he knew that the coldness of the metal was not the main reason. Again he closed his eyes and with his fingers traced down the chain until he reached the actual locket which was attached to the chain he wore.

A bloody Horcrux, he wore a bloody Horcrux, a piece of soul from the Dark Lord himself! Bloody hell, he cursed inwardly as he didn't want Hermione to scold him again. He couldn't believe it.

Every fiber of his being screamed to throw the locket away, far away so he would have not to endure its presence ever again. His fingers had even unconsciously tightened their grip around the chain, ready to take it off his neck and throw it away as far and fast as he could. With a startle he realized what he had absentmindedly nearly done.

He quickly glanced around to see whether anyone had noticed his actions. Harry was still standing guard and Hermione was burying her nose in some book. Ron breathed a sigh of relief. However the relief was soon replaced with confusion and…fear.

Why was he undergoing so many strange emotions in a short amount of time, it was not like he was a girl who had her special time in the month. Was this all the cause of the locket? But why didn't Harry and Hermione show any signs of trouble except being slightly more bad-tempered than without wearing it, did it affect him more greatly or were Harry and Hermione simply hiding it very well?

All those questions which he had no answers for frustrated him to no end. Maybe Hermione was finally starting to rub off on him.

_You seem to be troubled_, a cold voice smoothly said. It took Ron every bit of his self-control to not jump up or let out a loud shriek. Panicking, he looked around, trying to search for the origin of the voice. Hermione, who had looked up from her book, gave him a questioning look to which he only responded with a dismissal wave of his wand, indicating that everything was perfectly fine.

Which it certainly wasn't. Suddenly a realization hit him like one of these Bludgers. Horrified, he slowly took the locket and raised the hand he was holding it until it was right before his face, his shocked expression mirrored in the locket's surface.

"You've got to be kidding me…," he muttered quietly to himself. It couldn't be. No way had the locket just been talking with him! He was probably tired or had some kind of hallucinations because of the lack of food in his stomach or probably both. Yes, this must be it.

_And if the locket could talk, it would talk with Harry or Hermione, not with me_, he reassured himself, although there was a taint of bitterness in his thoughts.

Just when he had finally calmed down, the voice spoke again: "Ronald Weasley, friend of the Boy-Who-Lived…"

This time he knew where the voice came from and he immediately looked at the locket. He was sure he had seen a scarlet eye with a slit-shaped pupil, however before he could give it a closer look it was already gone. Ron gulped.

He had luckily never seen You-Know-Who before but from Harry's stories he knew that he had scarlet eyes. _Was he watching me_, he wondered fearfully. As though the Horcrux could sense his feelings, it spoke again, fuelling his fear.

"Ronald Weasley, friend of the Boy-Who-Lived," it repeated itself. "And," now the voice took on a taunting tone, "boyfriend," if lockets could sneer, it would now, "of Hermione Granger, second-youngest child of a family with seven children, Ronald Weasley, a person who has never done anything special in his entire life."

Ron's insides froze; every word of the Horcrux was like a sharp blade stabbing him. He wanted to scream for help, wanted to take the locket off and throw it away but he couldn't. Petrified, he looked at the locket in horror.

"You could have become great," the disembodied voice said. "But instead you let your _friend _take all the glory."

Feelings he had tried to conceal, thoughts he had stopped himself to think of, they all broke to the surface again because of its words. Cold fury, hatred and jealousy swelled up inside him. He now let his gaze flicker to Harry, his best friend. _No_, he thought coldly, _the one who always got the fame and praise although he wasn't better, stronger or smarter than me._

Soon, however, those feelings were replaced by guilt and shame. He knew that Harry never wanted any of these things; he knew it wasn't his fault that his brothers had done great things and he felt overshadowed by them.

"But he took that girlfriend of yours, didn't he?"

Ron didn't even have the strength anymore to be shocked or angry_. No_, he thought warily, _Harry has Ginny and Hermione…likes me._ The last words came out hesitantly, as though he was not entirely sure of them. The voice noticed that and embraced the opportunity to increase Ron's self-doubt even more.

"Did you forget that he chucked her, threw her away and no one, not even the girl, said a word against it, only you? But eventually you also conceded like everyone else. Why? Because he is the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, the Savior of the Wizard World! The girl felt honored to be his girlfriend and when he let her go she expected it because she knows that she is inferior to him like everybody else, like every common, normal person, a person like you", it sneered.

_Shut up, shut up, shut up!_ He screamed inwardly, no words were able to escape his mouth. It went on, maliciously engulfing the pain and sadness it caused with its words.

"Now, without being tied to the girl anymore he can easily get himself a new girl. Which witch wouldn't love him, the Chosen One, especially if her current boyfriend is you? You are nothing compared to him, he is better than you in every department, even in Quidditch you thought you were great in, he easily bet you. So why do you think he won't take her, after all she is a smart witch and he is much better suited for her than you? Everyone with common sense, which you apparently lack, can see that.

"But you see, you could have become great, you still can…"

_How_, Ron asked eagerly, all his caution and fear gone, only the thought to become great and beat Harry was on his mind.

"I can give you power, enough power to beat him, enough power to claim the girl as your own and only yours, with my help you can do things which would far surpass the things your brothers have ever done. Your mother would be so proud of you; Hermione would only have eyes for you and not weak, insignificant Harry Potter. You only have to give me your permission and then you will be great, only one word to be said will help you on your way to greatness, say _yesss_," the last word came out as hiss and jolted Ron out of his images, images of him overshadowing everyone, especially Harry. Finally he remembered again whom he was talking to.

Disgust. He felt disgusted with himself to actually _consider_ letting You-Know-Who give him power. _More like allowing him to take control of me_, he miserably thought. He had wanted to have Voldemort's power to not only be great but also to…beat Harry, his best friend.

He felt ashamed, felt like a traitor.

o.O.o

Later, when he was talking with Harry and Hermione, he snapped at both them, not caring if he hurt any of their feelings as he felt hurt too, too much than he could ever explain in words. Why shouldn't they get to have a taste of what it felt like? It was, after all, their fault.

_No_, a voice inside of him chided, _it is the fault of that Horcrux_. _You must not listen to it!_

He tried to, he really tried but withstanding the power of one of the most feared Dark wizards wasn't an easy feat.

Every time when he was finally allowed to take off the locket and passed it to one of his friends, he felt immense relief but when it was his turn again, the horror began anew. He couldn't help it, couldn't ignore the taunting voice, couldn't look away from the images it showed him, it already did before it started to talk to him but it still wasn't any better, and he couldn't refrain himself from taking his mood out on his both friends.

Afterwards, when he was freed of the locket's influence, he felt guilty and ashamed of his unjustified behavior towards his friends. But he couldn't tell them, didn't want to admit what the locket was doing to him, what it was whispering to him, even when he slept.

Nightmares of red eyes haunted him even in his sleep, red eyes lurking in the shadows, watching him when he had to stand guard in the night with the locket around his neck and a whisper, a constant whisper, telling him things he didn't want to hear, didn't want to hear because the temptation was steadily growing and he did not know how long he could fight against it…until he'd finally cracked.

o.O.o

He did. He knew that it would happen eventually although he had stubbornly tried to convince him otherwise.

But at that time he had thought that all his fears and worries were proven right when Hermione had decided to stay with Harry for reasonable reasons but at that time he had been far from reasonable. He had been acting like the greatest idiot the world had ever seen, hell, he still felt like the biggest idiot ever.

He had allowed his frustration at himself, all those negative feelings, he had bottled up inside of him, all the things he had been thinking and was worrying about to take control of him. He had shouted things, accusations at them, especially at Harry; things he knew weren't Harry's fault but nevertheless made him feel even more frustrated.

At that time he had felt the triumph, maliciousness and smugness radiating from the Horcrux but he ignored it, he had thought back to the Horcrux' words and it had only made him even angrier. He felt fury and hatred, hatred he had never felt before, given him by the Horcrux. He had wanted to take his wand, point it at Harry and make him disappear forever from his view. Only now did he notice what he had wanted to.

_Merlin_, he muttered horrified and shocked, he slowly raised the wand, both of his hands were shaking. He had wanted to kill Harry! And would have done it, if it weren't for Hermione who had casted a Shield charm. All the color was draining from his face at the realization; he could feel something coming up. Not even trying to stop it, he vomited all over the floor. When he had finally got a hold of himself again, he waved his wand, making the vomit disappear.

_What have I become?_

_A murderer_, a cold and taunting and far too familiar voice said.

His head, which he had buried in his hands until now, shot up at those words. Immediately he looked down to his chest, expecting to see the locket but there was none; when Harry had told him to leave the Horcrux there, as he had been just about to leave, he had gladly complied.

Confused, he shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He must be tired or so hungry that he was hallucinating things; again he failed to realize the true cause of why he could hear the locket's voice.

Although he had the nagging feeling that something was amiss he chose to ignore it and focused himself on the task to find his friends again and to apologize to them for acting like a prick that could put Malfoy to shame.

o.O.o

"Do it!" from somewhere a voice shouted.

It was distinctly familiar but he wasn't able to tell whom the voice belonged to. Not that it mattered anyway. Every part of him was focused on Harry and Hermione, how they were taunting him, sneering at his pain and hugging and kissing each other. Telling them the things he had always thought and now to see how they were proven right, it hurt; he wanted the pain to be gone, anything to make it vanish.

"I can make it vanish," a voice not coming from Harry or Hermione said. Startled, he saw himself standing right next to him, eyes as red as blood, gleaming like two little rubies. A smirk played on his lips.

"It is easy to let the pain disappear."

_It is?_

"Yess," the smirk grew bigger. "If you want to get rid of the pain, then destroy the cause of it."

_The cause?_

"Don't you see it?" the red-eyed him softly asked. He pointed to Harry and Hermione who were kissing each other. The sight gave him yet another stab of pain.

"Make the Boy-Who-Lived disappear and all your problems will be solved. I can help you with that; you know what to say…"

_Yesss…_

He felt something inside his mind, then blissful nothing.

It felt wonderful to feel and think nothing, to let others do it for him, not having to worry about anything and not having to feel any pain.

Like an observer he saw himself raising the sword and slowly going to Harry who was shouting something.

Something inside him stirred at the sight. Something felt wrong…

But what?

"Don't think, just let it happen and all your pain will be gone," the voice reassured him.

He was just about to agree when it hit him.

The realization of it gave him enough willpower to tell the voice to shut up and then allowed him to raise the sword and stab the Horcrux. It screamed horribly and the other Harry, Ron and Hermione disappeared.

He let go of the sword, it clanged as it landed on the ground. He too felt on the ground with his knees, his head in his arms.

_Murderer_. Again he had been that close to becoming one.

He felt a hand on his shoulders, heard words which deep inside of him he already knew but hearing them out aloud by Harry made him realize what a fool he was to think otherwise.

He gulped. How lucky it was that he came to that realization, that horrible realization which made him think straight again and which allowed him to do the things which needed to be done.

He had realized that the anger and the hatred he had felt towards Harry, hatred which could have easily made him kill Harry, did not come from the locket but from _him_.

He had realized that the reason why the locket could talk with him but not with Harry or Hermione was the darkness inside him, those negative feelings he had corked up inside him until they were that strong that the locket could take advantage of it. Those feelings could be easily used and steered to the Dark side.

As feelings, the desire to do something are one of the most important things in the practice of Dark Arts, and his want to make Harry disappear, to become greater than all of them made him an easy victim to the Dark side of magic. The Horcrux had noticed this and had nearly succeeded in making him become Dark, letting himself be controlled by Voldemort. He could now perfectly understand Ginny who had also fallen victim to the Dark Lord.

He briefly closed his eyes and blew his nose. Then he slowly stood up and came face to face with Harry, his best friend and nothing would change that ever again.

"I'm sorry," he said, putting all the regret, guilt and shame he felt in his voice. "I'm sorry I left." _I'm sorry that I nearly listened to what You-Know-Who was saying, tried to kill you twice and let myself nearly be controlled by him_. He couldn't say it though. The thought alone of what his words might cause stopped him from saying anything further.

His mouth felt dry as he attempted to say more as he felt that the apology wasn't enough.

"I know I was a – a-"A prick, an idiot, a fool… None of them could describe what he was, what he had done. Murderer, traitor were appropriate words but again he couldn't say them, admit to Harry what he had thought, done or nearly done.

To his surprise, Harry said: "You've sort of made up for it tonight. Getting the sword. Finishing off the Horcrux. Saving my life."

His words made him feel even guiltier. He did not deserve this sort of…praise, after all that had happened..

"That makes me sound a lot cooler than I was," he mumbled.

"Stuff like that always sounds cooler than it really was. I've been trying to tell you that for years."

Too bad that he had realized it nearly too late, that he didn't realize it sooner, so many bad things he had done could have been averted.

As though they had already planned it they walked forward and hugged each other. Ron finally realized how much he had missed his friend; again he felt a pang of guilt at the thought that he could have make Harry gone forever.

"And now," said Harry as they broke apart. "All we've got to do is to find that tent again."

At Harry's words, Ron wanted nothing more but run to Hermione straightaway, hug and kiss her and tell her how sorry he was. _Although_, he thought amused, _this isn't very likely. She will probably set those birds on me as soon as she catches sight of me. Not like I didn't deserve it, _this time it was thought without any bitterness.

He had to get over it and help his friends as good as he could. He owned them that much and far more.


End file.
